Rough Hands

[Zoë Washburne]

Things had been hard for Zoë since Wash died. Of course, she never showed it. Never spoke of how much pain she was in now that he was gone. Never cried, never complained, never said anything. Not in front of the crew at least. When she was alone in her room, she let everything she kept bottled up out. She cried, she threw things, she asked over and over why it had to be him, why it had to be her Wash. She barely ventured into the bridge any more though. She was sure Mal and the girl were doing a fine job. But walking into that room and not seeing Wash at the controls, playing with his dinosaurs, sitting in that chair smiling... only served to make the hole inside her bigger. And she couldn't survive that.

So she had focused even harder on work. On getting the job done. Filling her day with whatever it took so that by the time she finally stumbled into bed, she had fallen into exhausted sleep before she could dwell too long on the fact that she would be sleeping alone. Unfortunately, Mal had recently decided that laying low was the best option for them all at the moment, and had taken them to Osiris, where they could hide in the black out zones, camouflaged by all the other criminals.

It rained a lot, in the black out zones, Zoe noticed. She wondered if it was the alliance trying to make secret meetings in the black out zones less desirable. It didn't work, if that was their plan. Zoe often walked the black out zones, away from the ship, and saw all sorts of interesting goings on. Not all of them criminal. Tonight, for example, she discovered a couple meeting in secret, both of them drenched by the rain and not really caring. She had smiled to herself and thanked the rain for masking her tears, making up a story for the couple as she walked on.

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

"I'm a leaf on the wind..."

They could have let him finish he damned sentence before driving a spear clean through him. It wasn't too much to ask. At least his last words had been insightful that was something to be pleased with...if you had to die mine as well go oout sounding like a scholar apposed to a jack ass.

The world had gone black after that and there was something to be said about a quick death. Again if you had to die a spear through the chest though not a pretty thing to see was instant and painless...though still sucked in the long run. Now Wash was by no means a pro when it came to death but he was rather certain it was supposed to be a forever sort of thing; unless you believed in the whole coming back as a yorkie thing and then that was something else entirely. But he knew that you simply didn't wake up feeling like you had been run through with a spear...which you had been; sitting curled up in some corner of some forsaken alleyway in the pouring rain. Had he not recently died he might have been concerned over catching his death.

Wash closed his eyes for a moment trying to shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong...very very very very very wrong out of his head but it didn't seem to be working. There were whispers somewhere behind his eyes and he couldn't make out what in blazes they were saying and every few moments there would be a flash of something in his sight but he couldn't make it out.

The clothes he was wearing weren't his or well at least he would argue they weren't before he had died. The brown pants were filthy and torn and the what used to bew white shirt was splattered with blood and dirt though none of it seemed to be his and his feet were bare and every moment which passed on seemed to make less and less sense.

He had died...he had to have died. You didn't get impaled and get to walk away. You were buried dead and gone it was how the universe worked. Yet here he was sitting in the corner of an alley soaked to the bone...and breathing and he had no idea why.

[Zoë Washburne]

Zoe ran a hand through her hair, drenched to the point that the curls had been straightened with the weight of the water. It was probably time to head back to Serenity before she caught her death. With a sigh, Zoe made to turn around but something caught her eye in the alley way next to where she was standing. She hesitated, then, her curiosity getting the better of her, she pulled her gun out from it's holster and held it ready before walking towards the large bundle in the corner of the alley.

As she drew closer, she realised it was a person, huddled in the corner and soaked through. She frowned. This was probably none of her concern but something she told the Captain once filtered through her mind. In the time of war, we would never have left a man behind. She still believed that, even now, and so, steeling herself, she approached the figure.

But something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. The figure on the ground in front of her was covered in blood, though she could see he was still breathing. But that wasn't what was wrong... though it was certainly unnerving. What was wrong was the sense of familiarity she felt as she came closer to the person. The blond hair, the hard hands, the jaw line... it was painfully familiar and she wanted to stop and turn around but she couldn't. The she saw his face and she stopped in her tracks. It wasn't possible... he'd died.

"Wash?" she whispered, lowering her gun in shock.

But it couldn't be him. He was dead. She'd watched him die. She'd buried him. He was dead... so what in the tyen shiao duh was he doing sitting on the ground in front of her now?

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

Wash didn't want to open his eyes; here in the dark he could control things or well at least control the desire to deny the world around him which for the moment was more then ok with him. He felt himself shiver ever so slightly the rain had siaked clean through him and he was almost certain he couldn't recall what it felt like to be dry. Then a rather alarming thought or lack thereof occured...there were holes...there were pieces of himself of his mind he couldn't recall. It felt as if he was on the verge edge of the thought...the memory yet he couldn't remember what it was. It could be seen as that normal maddening sensation everyone got if it didn't feel as if his entire existence was one large piece of something he couldn't remember.

He could see things, places...people but he couldn't pin point what exactly they were...slight problem.

"Wash?"

That he knew; that name belonged to him...ok fantastic for small victories.

His eyes snapped opened slightly panicked and immediately locked on to the woman in front of him...he knew her and it took all of 2 seconds for the information which wrapped around her to fall into place.

Zoe.

This couldn't be happening; this was some very poorly played game. Perhaps he had gone to hell? He had never really invested much stock into the idea of heaven and hell but perhaps he had been sent to hell and now they were toying with him...lovely because that was what the recently dead needed to be toyed with.

"I'm dead," he explained his voice extremley hoarse as if he had spent the last month screaming.

"...Just so you know," he clarified though he wasn't exactly sure if he was explaining it to himself or the vision of Zoe before him.

[Zoë Washburne]

"I'm dead...Just so you know,"

Zoe nodded and knelt down in front of him. "I know that," she told him. She reached out and touched his face lightly. "But you're not acting very dead, honey."

A small part of her told her it couldn't possibly be Wash. Because Wash was dead. But then who else could it be? It wasn't so dark she couldn't recognise her own husband, dead or not. And she was fairly certain the Alliance hadn't figured out how to make someone into someone else... fairly certain...

She sat down in front of him, looking up at the sky as the rain showed no sign of letting up... in fact, it felt as though it was getting worse. She turned her attention back to Wash and shook her head. "You can't be real." That had to be it. She'd breathed in too many fumes froms this ridiculous planet. Or grief was playing tricks on her. Either way, there was no possible way that the Wash sitting in front of her, was anything other than a very realistic and strangely solid hallucination.

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

"I know that."

Good. That was good they both seemed to agree he was dead...but that didn;t exactly explain why whatever this thing was had picked Zoe...he really would have preferred it looked like anyone elsoe except for his wife. It hurt to look at her because he knew he had left her. Ture he had died but he was pretty sure it was still considered leaving.

"But you're not acting very dead, honey."

Wash flinched slightly away from her touch as it had caught him completely off guard and his eyes quickly found hers once more. Ok so maybe they both didn't agree that he was dead.

"Sorry...new at the whole dead thing," Wash attempted to apologize not sure exactly how you acted dead but apprently he needed to step up his game a bit.

"You can't be real."

Wash shook his head in compliance with Zoe's statement. Two of them were on the same page now which was a step in the right direction.

"Good I was beginning to think I was the only one who thought that," Wash whispered his eyes flickering from Zoe back up to the rain filled sky above them.

None of this was making any sense and it was beginning to piss him off. He had died; that he knew he remembered that and anything after that seemed to be a black hole until something triggered it. He had known Zoe the moment he saw her but until that moment he couldn;t pin point her.

His eyes dragged themselves down the front of his shirt and hands which were stained with blood. The rain streaked through the blood on his hands and the skin beneath was fine.

"I don't think this is my blood" Wash muttered to himself for the moment forgetting Not-Zoe was there.

[Zoë Washburne]

"Good I was beginning to think I was the only one who thought that,"

This was beyond ridiculous. How the hell had she ended up sitting in the rain, in some God forsaken crap hole of an alley, talking to her dead husband... she was going to have a long talk with Mal about 'laying low' and how much of a terrible idea it was. She sighed then coughed slightly and groaned. She was already coming down with something. Stupid rain.

"I don't think this is my blood"

Zoe looked Wash over and shrugged. "Well, you were impaled," she pointed out, nodding at all the blood. Closing her eyes briefly as the memory of Wash's death swam to the front of her mind. "But we cleaned you up... before we buried you... we made sure you were all... presentable." Zoe shook her head and stood up. "This is insane. You're dead, Wash, and yet somehow you're here, having a conversation with me about whether the blood you're covered in is yours..." she looked at him and shook her head. "You can't be real," she repeated. "You're not my Wash." And though it went against every fibre of her being, Zoe turned around and began to walk away.

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

"Well, you were impaled."

"That part I remember," Wash replied attempting to clean the blood from his hands on his pants; or well the pants he was wearing he clearly did not recall owning anything like looked like what he was currently wearing but that really wasn't important at the time.

"But we cleaned you up... before we buried you... we made sure you were all... presentable."

Wash looked back up at Zoe for a moment a dumbfounded look etched across his face.

"Presentable?...For who?"

"This is insane. You're dead, Wash, and yet somehow you're here, having a conversation with me about whether the blood you're covered in is yours..."

"I'm pretty sure it's not..." he wasn;t sure though if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"You can't be real...You're not my Wash."

Ok well that one stung a bit; but before he had time to protest she was up and walking away from him. Which then left him in an awful spot. He didn;t really want to sit there argueing about him beog dead with his wife but then again he really didn;t want to be left alone with no idea where he was or what had even happened.

"Ta ma de," Wash muttered before forcing himself up and quickly going after Zoe or Not-Zoe or whoever the hell they were. Being with them was better then not being with anyone at all at least for the moment. He had just about caught up with her when a scream filtered the space around them; a scream which triggered a rather gruesome scene to flash before his eyes...a memory that he had no memory of.

There was blood strewn across a small shack and a man laying in the middle of the shack covered in blood and very much dead. His insides were very much not on the inside any longer and there were giant holes were the man's eyes had been.

He was gonna be sick.

Stumbling slightly Wash found himself back upon the ground of the alleyway hurling his own insides up and on to the ground if that was possible. Once he was certain he had finished puking up pieces of his own spleen something came crashing down around him.

He was rather certain...may even bet money on the fact that you didn't waste time in the after life puking.

[Zoë Washburne]

It hurt to walk away from him. But, she told herself firmly, no matter how much he looked like Wash, he couldn't possibly be Wash. Zoe Washburne believed many things, but coming back from the dead wasn't one of them. She could hear Wash... or whoever he was... following behind her, and she was about to turn around to tell him to stop following her or she would shoot him... even though she was fairly sure bullets didn't work on hallucinations... when a loud scream from somewhere above them drew her attention.

She paused, her eyes searching the windows above but she shook her head. Screams like that were often heard in the black out zones. For every non-criminal act, like the couple in the alley, there were at least ten criminal ones occuring at the same time. It was probably too late to help whoever had screamed, and anyway, Zoe had done her fair share of meddling for the night, and what had it got her? The ghost of her husband following her around.

A loud retching sound forced her to turn around and she saw the Wash ghost/hallucination vomiting all over the alley. She frowned slightly. Ghosts and hallucinations didn't vomit, did they? She shook her head, that was neither here nor there. What was important was that something looking too much like her husband was having a rather unpleasant experience right next to her. She moved over to him, unable to help herself, and put a hand comfortingly on his back?

"You okay, baby?" she asked, before she could stop herself, forgetting momentarily, that he was neither okay, nor her 'baby.'

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

"This isn't right..." Wash muttered to himself unable to stop the small collection of tremors which tore through him.

This was beyond not right this was insane!

And who the hell had that man been...the dead one?! And why further did he had that memory. It wasn't from pre-spear through the chest that was certain; but then there wasn't supposed to be anything post-spear in the chest either.

"You okay, baby?"

Wash felt the familiar feel of Zoe's hand against his back and he knew even more so that this wasn't right. She couldn't be here she couldn't...well no correction she could be there him on the other hand he had no business any place save for the 9ft deep hole they had buried him in.

"No..." he managed to reply in a broken whisper as he pushed himself off of the floor and unto unstable legs the smell making him want to hurl again and he would really prefer not to.

A clap of thunder cracked through the sky above and it brought voices with no names with it.

"We have work for you to do....We'll have you be useful for us...For as long as we wish...You will do as we say....When we say...And how we say...Do you understand Mr. Washburne?..."

Awesome; something else he didn't remember. Wash could feel the pounding of a headache springing behind his eyes and again he was positive ghosts didn't get headaches.

"I'm not ok Zoe...I'm supposed to be dead!...I-I remember the crash and then...I was dead and now..." Wash's words died off as they made no sense to him what so ever and he was entirely past the point of panic.

"What the hell happened?!"

[Zoë Washburne]

"No..."

Zoe shook her head. Of course he wasn't okay. He was dead. And now he was vomiting. In what world did that equal okayness? Of course, the whole being dead part was slowly becoming less and less likely. Which frightened Zoe more than a little... and she didn't scare easy. But she could feel him under her hand, he was solid and warm and very much not dead, and also not hallucinatory. So what option did that leave her with?

"I'm not ok Zoe...I'm supposed to be dead!...I-I remember the crash and then...I was dead and now..."

Zoe could hear him reaching a stage on panic and took his face in her hands. Looking him in the eye. He sounded like Wash, he acted like Wash... everything about him screamed "Hoban Washburne" except for the part where Hoban Washburne was dead. Zoe was confused, and scared, but she felt certain, looking into his eyes, that this was Wash. Her Wash. Which only added to her confusion and her fear.

"What the hell happened?!"

Zoe didn't know how to answer him. She was just as in the dark as he was. She remembered the crash, she remembered the Reavers, she remembered burying her husband... and now here was was, standing before her. The only option left to her, that she no longer had a problem believing, was that Wash was back. Her only concern was how. Laws of nature being broken was never a good thing. "I have no idea," she said honestly. "But we'll figure it out."

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

Wash stared back at Zoe with a hopeful look in his eyes as she held his face within her hands; maybe just maybe she knew what the hell was going on and if not well maybe she could lie to him...he would take that right about now just as much as he would take an explanation.

"I have no idea," she said honestly. "But we'll figure it out."

Or then again there was the honest method...that method seemed to give him a headache though and only helped to feed the fires of panic.

"Zoe..." but Wash never go the chance as a shadow at the opposite end of the alleyway caught his eyes and he felt his blood run cold. He knew the man in the shadows...he knew him and he feared him...and he had no idea who he was.

"Zoe...we have to go," Wash whispered panicked his eyes never leaving the figure at the opposite end of the alley who walked calmy towards them.

"We have to go NOW!" Wash pleaded desperately with her his eyes locking back to her once more. He had no idea who the man was but he could feel that if they stayed around to find out it would not go in their favor.

[Zoë Washburne]

Having finally come to terms with the fact that the man in front of her could only be her husband, Zoe relaxed a bit. No doubt the whole emotion of it would catch up with her later. But later was better than now... right now she had to be her normal, calm, collected self to sort out what the hell to do next.

"Zoe..."

She looked at him questioningly, turning around to see what had caught his eye. There was nothing behind her. Nothing but rain and darkness.

"Zoe...we have to go,"

He was still looking over her shoulder and she turned around completely, pulling out her gun and raising it towards the shadows. But there was still nothing there. "Wash... what - ?"

"We have to go NOW!"

Wash's pleading cut off her question and she looked back at him, confusion evident on her face. "Honey, there's nothing there."

[Hoban "Wash" Washburne]

You will do as we say....When we say...And how we say...Do you understand Mr. Washburne?..."

He knew some how that the voice which whispered in his head belonged to the man in the shadows and he knew just the same that the man was there for him.

"We have to go Zoe...please...he's right there..."

"Honey, there's nothing there."

"No...he's there...Please...please we need to go...we have to go...please..." Wash was far past the point of begging as he pulled at Zoe to try and get her to move out and away from their spot near the mouth of the alley.

The echo of the shadows footsteps bounced off the stoned walls as it grew closer adn closer and with each step Wash felt his panic grown ten fold. Soemthing inside of him had flown into a full blown fit and he kenw some how he damn well knew that when the shadow caught up with him he would be in for it.

He hadn't gone back.

"You will do as we say....When we say...And how we say..."

He had disobeyed and he didn't even remember why or how or even who the hell he had gone against.

"You serve us now...our purpose and what we stand for...what we require. There is no use for you in regards to anything outside of what we tell you."

"I didn't go back..." Wash whispered his eyes locked on the shadows and his hand still tightly gripping Zoe's arm.

"You belong to us now...simply a means to an end."

[Zoë Washburne]

"No...he's there...Please...please we need to go...we have to go...please..."

Zoe followed as Wash pulled on her arm but she was beginning to worry. "Wash, there's no one there," she said firmly. She checked behind her again, but still, nothing. She wondered what he was seeing, because whatever it was, it was terrifying him.

"I didn't go back..."

They had stopped moving now, though Wash's grip on her arm remained tight. It was almost painful, but Zoe had dealt with much worse so she ignored it. "Didn't go back where?" she asked, her whisper mirroring his. It was Zoe's turn to pull Wash out of the alley. If she got him away from there, maybe what ever he was seeing would go away... maybe.